


Spirit Of My Dreams

by barbex



Category: Dragon Age (Video Games)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Avvar, F/M, Oral Sex, Vaginal Sex, sex with Paint
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-15
Updated: 2020-11-15
Packaged: 2021-03-09 18:35:19
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,829
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27580777
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/barbex/pseuds/barbex
Summary: Fenris is an Avvar thane. And one day, Sanja Hawke happens to come around and he offers her avvar hospitality. Very special avvar hospitality.
Relationships: Fenris/Female Hawke
Comments: 2
Kudos: 31





	Spirit Of My Dreams

**Author's Note:**

> Written for The Smut Café and the prompt “I’m making an offer, it’s on you to take it.”
> 
> Let's assume Fenris never made it to Kirkwall, he came to the Frostback Mountains instead and became a thane of the Avvar. 
> 
> I completely failed on the part of possessive and rough sex and wrote something sweet instead.

* * *

Hawke enters the cabin and pushes her hood back. A bit of snow falls from her hair, gliding ice cold down her neck. She's no orlesian flower but by the Maker, she hates this cold. Unfortunately she's stuck here for now, until the blizzard lets up and she can look for that damn Warden again. It's been over a week and she is well fed up.

The door falls closed behind her and she blinks the ice crystals from her lashes to look around. The cabin is the largest in this village, it belongs to the thane, she gathers. She hasn't met him yet, only a handful of people have talked to her. She is grateful that they're giving her shelter but the way the woman, who has taken her in, looked at her, she is nervous about meeting the thane now.

She can see a large bed on one side, and a low chair, stuffed with pillows and furs, takes up the center of the near circular room. A large oven stands on the other side, with furs and pillows piled around it against a wooden ring that prevents accidentally burning yourself if you get too close to the oven. 

"Very thoughtful," Hawke says to herself, just to fill the silence. To fill it even more, she hums a little song to herself that she used to sing with Bethany and Carver.

"Is that a song from your home?" The voice is deep and rich, with a familiar accent and she whips around to see who is speaking. The light from the oven and the lanterns doesn't quite reach to the person standing in another door.

"Yes, it's a song about a mabari, of course it is, it's a fereldan song, I'm pretty sure all of our songs are about mabari and... I'm rambling, sorry, I just..." She squints towards the person. "Do I know you?"

A slight chuckle comes from the person. "In a way, yes. You've met me — "

" — at the fire," Hawke breathes out. The memory from the celebration, three nights ago rushes over her.

_"Mage," the man says with a bite in his voice. "Why are you here?" Despite the harsh tone, his voice is warm and smooth and causes shivers up and down Hawke's spine._

_Hawke takes another gulp of the strong drink they've handed her. Her head is buzzing pleasantly and laughter bubbles up in her. "I honestly don't know," she says. "I'm looking for a damn warden and now I'm here." She turns to the man. His face is hidden under a dark hood, she can see white lines on his chin but nothing else. The avvar like painting their faces but something looks different about these lines._

_Before she can look closer, someone pulls her up and drags her closer to the dancers around the fire. She has no idea how she is supposed to dance to the beating drums and the melodies from stringed instruments but she does her best, twirling and shaking to the rhythm. The hooded man is watching her, never turning away._

_The dancing makes her dizzy and she stumbles back to her chair. She drinks the rest from her mug and leans back, feeling the buzz of the alcohol curl through her body._

_The hooded man comes up behind her, his voice a deep, shivering rumble next to her ear. "Tell me what you want to do here."_

_"If you keep talking like that," Hawke says, letting her head fall back so that her lips almost brush his chin, "I'm gonna want to do you. You have such a sexy voice."_

_The hooded man brushes his lips over her cheek and chuckles. "I'll see you soon, if I'm sure I can trust you."_

_"I'm trustwordy!" Hawke calls out, the words slurring on her tongue. She turns around but the man is gone and her head feels too heavy to search for him._

_The murky green of the Fade turns into glittering colours, dancing in front of her eyes and a wolf watches her from the distance. Black fur with glowing white lines and green eyes that follow her every move. She runs towards him but she can't reach him before the Fade slips away._

"Am I trustworthy now?" She grins at the man in the shadow. "Can I see you now?"

The man chuckles again and then steps out of the shadow, pushing his hood back to reveal long, white hair. He releases a buckle in front of his chest and the coat drops from his shoulders. He only wears a leather harness for his sword and dark, tight trousers. He has the body of a fighter, wyry and strong. His straight nose and pointy ears mark him as an elf, a very attractive one. Apart from looking like he was made directly from Hawke's wet dreams, his whole body is decorated with swirling white lines that seem to glow. 

Hawke forgets to breathe. "Maker have mercy." 

The elf smiles at her, obviously aware of the effect he has. "Would you like to remove some layers too? I made sure to heat this room up before you came."

Hawke swallows a remark about how the hot feeling on her neck has nothing to do with the amount of clothes she wears but it is objectively warm in the cabin and she gladly throws off her coat. She kicks off her boots too and the padded gambeson, wondering if she should just get naked. She heard plenty of rumours about the avvar and their customs and some of those rumors were told in the dark, like secrets behind the palm of a hand, because of their delicious naughtiness. 

She pulls the laces on her shirt open and halts. "So, uhm, I'm not sure what the plan is here..."

The elf stalks towards her with an air of confidence that makes her weak in her knees. "The avvar have customs that may seem strange to you. Nothing is permanent here and lightness is hard to be found. You are a guest, and as the thane of this clan, I want to offer you companionship."

Hawke's thoughts come to a sudden halt and she stares at him, saliva collecting in her mouth. "So... I'm supposed to have sex with you?"

The elf smiles and shakes his head. "You don't have to. I’m making an offer, it’s on you to take it."

"Oh, I'm taking it," Hawke blurts out. She pulls the shirt over her head and is halfway through the laces of her trousers when the elf is in front of her and pushes her hands away.

His lips press to hers, hungry and demanding and his arms wrap around her and he just lifts her up and drops her into the chair. He has her trousers open in no time and impatiently pushes against her ass until she lifts it so that he can remove the last bit of clothing from her. He stands up, removes the harness and his own trousers and kneels back down between her legs. 

Hawke can just stare, the white lines wind over his whole body and her magic vibrates with their glow. They must contain lyrium but she doesn't dare to ask about that. So far she just drinks in the firm lines of his spectacular body.

Despite his obvious arousal, the thane has his hands on her thighs and just watches her. His eyes travel over her body until he looks into her eyes. 

"You are a beautiful woman, mage Hawke."

"Thank you. My name is Sanja, Sanja Hawke." The way he looks at her feels like a physical touch. "You're not bad looking yourself. Will you tell me your name?"

The elf pulls a box out from under the chair and opens it to reveal bowls with blue paint. He dips two fingers into the paint and looks back up to her. "I'm thane Fenris." He draws a line of blue color over her thigh and continues to speak. "As you can probably guess, I have not been born among the avvar. I used to be a slave in tevinter, that's where I got these marks."

Fenris' touch is electrifying, his fingers drawing swirling patterns over her skin have her gasp. But she can't help herself, she has to say, "They are lyrium." 

"Yes." Fenris dips his fingers back into the paint and draws a new pattern on her other thigh, a swirl on the inside of her thigh that looks similar to the lyrium pattern on his skin. 

Sanja draws in a sharp breath, her fingers clenching on the arm rests. "Do they hurt?" 

"Sometimes." Fenris moves up to her stomach, drawing a slow circle around her belly button and then a line straight down to her mons. He looks to the side and dips all of his fingers into the bowl of blue paint. Turning back to her, his green eyes holding her gaze, he draws lines over her waist with both hands, down to the apex of her thighs. He halts there, pressing along her folds, his fingers drawing down and then up again, almost touching her clitoris. 

Sanja can't stop a whine escaping and breathes in deeply. His eyes are still fixed on her, his painted finger drawing a circle around her clit. But he doesn't give her the touch she craves and draws his hands back up to her chest. Picking up fresh paint with four fingers, he draws over her breast with long strokes, pressing down on her nipple when he crosses it. Sanja gasps, her back arching against his touch. 

Fenris stands up now to lean over her with his hands on her arms and kisses her neck. Sanja moans and leans her head to the side to give him better access. Her hands strain for him but he holds her arms down. 

"Can I touch you? Your marks?"

He halts, moving his hands to her waist, his breath flowing over the skin of her neck. "Careful."

She puts a fingertip on a line on his arm, as lightly as she can and traces it up to his shoulder. She feels him tremble. "What about my magic, can it hurt you?"

"I don't know." He moves back to look at her. "I've had bad experiences with magic." 

"Can I try?"

He is wary and his stained blue fingers dig into the armrests of the chair. "What will you do?"

"Just a soft magical flood, nothing that can hurt you, as far as I know." She lets her magic flow to the forefront and his lines immediately begin to glow. "Does that hurt?"

Fenris draws in a breath. "No. It is... good." He stares at her, breathtakingly beautiful with his glowing lines. 

She puts her hand on his shoulder, feeling the lyrium in his lines vibrate against her magic. "I wanted to test this because, when I have sex, I sometimes flare."

"You flare?"

"Yes."

"Show me."

Sanja gathers her magic and lets it shine out of her. The blue glow washes over her and him, feeling like a familiar caress to her. She watches his face for any sign of pain as his lines glow bright but all she sees is burning desire. 

He sighs and throws his head back. "Oh," he breathes out.

"Are you alright?" 

He shudders. "It feels good, better than I could imagine." He leans forward again, his lips hovering over her lips. "I didn't know it could feel this way." 

Hawke stretches forward, catching his lips and kissing him. He moans into her mouth, hesitates just for a moment and then presses her into the chair as he claims her mouth. He kisses her like he could drink her soul through it, taking and giving everything they can feel. The kiss leaves them breathless, clinging to each other as they just stare into each other's eyes and Hawke knows that she looks just as overwhelmed as he does.

"You..." he stammers and falls back to his knees as if they can't carry him anymore.

Sanja reaches for him, her fingers touching his chin and the two lines on there begin to glow again. "Are you alright?"

Fenris looks up to her, an almost innocent openness in his face. "I am well." He takes her hands and looks at them. "You are a mage, you see the Land of Dreams when you sleep." His eyes turn to her, open and vulnerable. "Have you seen me? Because I think I have seen you." 

"The wolf." The words leave Sanja in a breath as the vision from the Fade comes back to her. "You are the wolf, you watched me."

He raises himself up and takes her head in his hands. "Spirit of my dreams, let me worship you." 

Instead of an answer, Sanja presses forward and kisses him again. She tries to take control but fails spectacularly. The way Fenris kisses her has her melt, she just goes soft in his arms, opening to him in total acceptance. When he breaks the kiss, her breath leaves her in a sigh. 

"Please." She doesn't even know what she asks for. 

Fenris smiles at her, his hands sliding down her chest until he holds her waist. He leans forward, his breath flowing hot over the curls at her mons and he presses his face in and licks long and slow over her aching folds with the flat of his tongue.

She cries out in relief, her desire having become nearly unbearable, angling her hips to press against his mouth. He licks between her labia lips and then moves up, flicking against her clit until she is whimpering with need. He kisses her clit softly, licks over the hood with more pressure and in between keeps using the flat of his tongue to lick a long path over her. She shakes in the chair, gasps and moans falling from her mouth, all her senses focussed on his touch. 

She comes with a scream, her magic flaring as bright, blue light around her. When she opens her eyes, she sees his markings glow in reaction. His eyes are closed, obvious pleasure in his expression, and he moans as he keeps licking her. 

At last, he presses one more kiss on her vulva and moves up to her. He grabs her shoulders and pulls her to him, pressing a bruising kiss to her lips, letting her taste herself. His arms wrap around her and he lifts her up, turns, and sits in the low chair himself, having her straddle him. 

Setting her knees on the chair, she lifts herself up, guides his cock inside her, and sinks down with a groan. Fenris throws his head back, a hoarse cry coming deep from his chest and his hands clench on her waist. She holds still, giving him time to gather his control. He fills her perfectly, strong and hot.

She looks around, finds the bowl of paint on the floor and bends down to pick it up, trusting him to hold her. She dips two fingertips into the bowl and draws a line from his throat down his sternum and further until her hand touches her mons. From there, she draws a line diagonally over his waist. Picking up new paint, she keeps painting his body in straight lines, as opposed to the swirling curves of the lyrium lines that already decorate him. Whenever she moves, she can see in his face how a wave of pleasure hits him.

"Sanja," he says, his voice vibrating with desperation.

"What do you want me to do?" she says, leaning forward to draw a line over his neck.

He looks at her, a mischievous grin on his lips. "Hold on." 

He grabs her hips, lifts her up, and slams her down on his cock. They both cry out and Sanja can indeed only hold on to his shoulders as he fucks her. He holds her still, his hips snapping against her and when she feels his rhythm faltering and sees his expression change, she presses her hand between them, touching her clit with a blue colored finger. 

Almost instantly she comes again, crying out as she rides the wave of ecstasy and Fenris groans, spilling into her. She feels his seed in her and how it leaks out as she trembles with little waves of pleasure, her magic flaring out wide. One last wave has her sigh and fall forward, settling into Fenris' arms wrapping around her. 

"Oh, Maker," Sanja sighs. "I think I can develop a fondness for avvar hospitality." Sanja looks up to him, tracing a line on his chin. "You said nothing is permanent here. But can we, maybe..." She presses herself closer to him. "Can we do this again at least?"

He turns lazily to her and presses a kiss to her forehead. "What is permanent, spirit of my dreams, is for us to decide."

  
  
  
  
  
  



End file.
